Mobile Uploads

Spring quarter always has a way of rushing up on me. One day it's Winter and life feels chilly and well paced and then suddenly, I wake up one morning to find a layer of pollen on my car and sandals on my pale feetsies. I'm a winter person (nothing suits me better than layered clothing and bowls of hot risotto), but there's something about Savannah in the Spring that makes you want to drive for hours with the windows down and the sticky breeze on your face. That, and the flowers. You guys. The flowers. They're unreal. 

Also, what better way to welcome in warmer weather with a set of cornrows? Oli had those bad boy braids for a solid week after her trip to the Bahamas for Spring Break. She knows how to rock a row. 

Me and Susie at the Library. No one loves the fashion reference section of Jen more than this gal. 

Me and the bros on our front porch on Easter. We're all looking so ladylike, aren't we? Nothing calls for dresses and manners quite like Easter brunch. 

Our delicious Easter bounty. Some cherished family recipes. Some new ventures. But all ridiculously good. (I made potatoes gratin with bearnaise sauce). Eating meals like this gets me excited for days in the future when hosting holiday dinners will be my responsibility to tackle. 

 Spencer's turned 21! We celebrated with dinner at Local and I made chocolate chocolate birthday cupcakes with sea salt. Remember: the best way to ring in a new year of life is with mountains and mountains of salty chocolate.

Baille Younkman can be blamed for this pic. She's trained me to see accidental art on the walls of my own city. There's so much around when I take a second to look. 

I love these people. Even just hanging out on the couch watching marathons of Nashville is an absurd amount of fun. Sometimes I can't believe that I've only known them for three years. Sometimes I can't believe that I've already known them for three years. Can time just please slow down a little bit? Especially on weekends? K. Cool. Thanks. 

Blog Lite

I think I've run out of things to say. Or maybe I've forgotten how to say them. Have you guys noticed? 

This blog is one of my greatest treasures. Like a best friend. Or a secret clubhouse. In the past, nothing was easier than opening my computer and just typing. And typing. And typing. About anything. About my fears. Or my excitement. Or even about a block of cheese, if the moment so deserved. I mean, take for example, the time it took me over 2,000 words to describe the beauty of a newly purchased rice cooker. It wasn't excessive. Or difficult. I wanted to talk about a rice cooker for a while and so I did. Swells of writing came easy and came often. But lately, the thought of writing pages and pages of wordy mish-mosh has left me stagnate. I feel stuck before I even start. 

Nothing is inspiring me to write and on most days, I wouldn't even know how to write about it if there was something interesting to begin with. And this makes me feel guilty. A testament to the cliche 'It's not you; it's me.' I am also finding myself censoring myself. (That sounds like I'm over here writing Clockwork Orange or something...) (For the record, I am definitely not writing Clockwork Orange...) but it just feels like this vast unknown of the internet when it comes to my thoughts on life is scary. I mean, who really is reading this thing anyway? My mom (a given). A professor (I was totally kidding when I was complaining about you). A future boss (hire me?). A boy (call me?). 

I read the other day that the best way to improve your writing skills is to write. And write. And write. And write. So, I suppose this is simply a slump in creativity or drive or maybe the want-to. But I think this is more than just writers block. I think things are changing for me. I want those changes to be collected and catalogued here. I just need to figure out the best way for me to do that now. 

I think I'm thinking too much. 

Vera

We can file this one under "Exciting Life News." Or maybe even "Landmark Life Moments"?

I've been keeping this semi-under wraps for the past few weeks (unless I've seen you in person and you've asked me any question regarding this summer in which case I totally spilled the beans and told you everything) that I was in consideration for a design internship at Vera. Freaking. Wang.  

Wait.

Let that rest for a few seconds.

Ok.

Keep going.

It's been a few weeks of back and forth emails but after interviewing yesterday afternoon with the head of their design department, I got an e-mail from Vera Wang (the company, not the lady) offering me a design internship for the summer. I blinked. And then read the e-mail again. And then I screamed. And danced a little. And laughed. And my face got hot. And I panicked that I had read the e-mail wrong. And so I read the e-mail again. And I'm pretty sure that it wasn't a typo. But they offered me a design internship. With Vera. Freaking. Wang. 


Wait.

Let that rest for a few seconds.

Ok.

Keep going.


Let's just take a moment to rewind about 15 years to a little girl who was watching Parent Trap at the movie theater and saw for the first time that there was a job that existed in the world where you got to live in London and design beautiful dresses for women with perfect teeth who felt and looked great. I remember looking up at the screen in wonderment, extremely jealous of Lindsay Lohan in her very put-together blue suit, dancing around the design studio with a gorgeous model wearing a top hat and thinking to myself that that is what I wanted to do with my life. I was sure of it.

And then I wasn't so sure of it. And then I was again. And then for a bit I wanted to bake cupcakes for the rest of my life. But then I realized that I was more of a fan of eating cupcakes. So I returned to design. And then college happened. And in case you're a little behind on your Bushka history, I wasn't so sure again. But things have happened in the past 15 years that keep pushing me in a direction that I'm always surprised at but never disappointed in. And come on! Who's to say that I'm still sure of ANYTHING in my life right now. But I know this is a good thing.

And let's be realistic here. My chances this summer coming even close to a Lindsay Lohan moment of blue suited greatness are slim (especially because the dress code at Vera is all black)(and my main responsibilities will be less about dancing fun 90's music and more about coffee orders), but I cannot wait. And maybe for the first time ever I feel ready. And confident. And steady in myself and what I have to offer. And I can't wait, I can't wait, I can't wait!!!

A Happening

I'm going to bed earlier and drinking lots of water. 

I'm watching less reality TV and sweeping more. 

I'm working out and choosing to only eat one piece of bread out of the basket. 

I've stopped shopping at Forever 21 and I only buy things I really really really like. 

Like, even if something is on sale, I usually don't buy it.

And I really like sales. 

I'm thinking before I'm speaking. 

I'm pausing before I'm blogging. 

I'm washing my face before I go to bed and sometimes I wear ear plugs.

I make eggs for breakfast and I'm eating almonds. For fun. 

I'm going to the library and I'm listening to less pop music. 

I'm having conversations with friends over cocktails about graduation and weddings. 

And the once blooming bush in the front yard is dying after only a week and it is making me so sad that I try not to look at it when I walk up to the porch. 

Something weird is happening and I'm not sure what it is or if I like it. 

I don't know what this all means for you, and I don't quite know what it means for me either, but it deserves attention. 

A Wild Friday Night

Are you sick of all of these posts about finals? Because I definitely am. But the fact that this morning I put shaving cream in my hair instead of shampoo tells me that finals are still very alive and well. So I blog about finals. Not because I want to. But because I have to. (And also because besides how tired and scramble-y I feel, I can't think of one single thing even remotely noteworthy to discuss.) Fair warning: I am quite tired and have lost all clever pithiness when it comes to my writing. I hope this post isn't as painful to read as I feel that it's going to be. 

Anyway, I thought you might want to see a few pics from the comings and goings of a day in the life of a fashion student in finals mode. Just a few pics for the old scrapbook, if you will. 

Here Susie, Lindsay and I are partaking in the age old tradition of lunch. What a wonderful tradition it is. Susie recently discovered that one of my favorite places in Savannah, a cheese and wine shop called "Form" serves lunch. So we decided to give it a try. While everything on their menu sounded absolutely delicious, nothing sounded very good to me except for their famous cheesecake which I've wanted to try for almost two years now. And when I saw they had a few slices of their espresso Kahlua  flavored variety, I decided I'd go for it. Yolo. Cheesecake and a water bottle. Works for me. 

In case you ever wondered what I was referring to when I say "the building" or "Eckburg," this is it. Or, this is part of it. The whole fashion building is quite large, but this room is the only room on the third floor and where I typically work. It is huge and has really high ceilings and big windows. It's sort of funny being in there on nights like last night because everyone is really focused on their work and super tired so it's usually extremely quiet. When I first started taking my major classes at the building, I used to hate how quiet it was because I thought people were too shy or thought they were too cool to talk, but the further along I get in the program, the more I find myself getting annoyed with the younger students who don't understand the unspoken rule of respecting the quiet.* I am such an old lady. Also, people say this room is haunted. But I don't buy it. 

Here I am taking a break from working, eating Wendy's and catching up on Keelyn and Kaitlin's blog about their adventures in Ireland. (By the way, those geese sound terrible... do you think anyone would miss them if you guys maybe just... took care of the issue... if ya know what I mean?) At this point you're probably thinking, "Cheesecake for lunch, Wendy's for dinner?" I know. It's bad. And I have no defense for it. Besides the fact that it's finals and that it's Winter so I'm allowed to be a little of the softer side on the hip scale. ...but, I promise, I don't usually eat this bad... I don't know. Maybe I do. Why am I apologizing to you? I ATE A BURGER AND FRIES LAST NIGHT FOR DINNER AND I LOVED EVERY MINUTE OF IT. 

Well, I think that's it. I don't want to be finished writing this because that means that I have to face the day head on and get back to work, but it has really been lovely chatting with you. I can't wait for this week to be over so I can fly my little watusie back to sweet California. But until then, I'll wear a mumu and Uggs with a cup of hot tea and my hand and the promise of good grades in my heart. 

*Unless, of course, you're Susie or me who are more than allowed to yell at each other from across the room. Or make loud moans of despair when we realize we've sewn something in wrong. 

Largely Blessed

I'm wearing a pair of socks that belong to a friend while typing this. But I would argue that once one is allowed into the personal world of a friends sock drawer, they are more than friends and something closer to a sister. Largely responsible for the socks was last night. A night of homework. And round tables. And homemade rhubarb strawberry jam. And then homemade rhubarb strawberry jam in ramekins with brown sugar, oats and butter. Crisped in the oven until they were fully consumed with burned tongues. And some of the most important people in my life sitting and talking about everything. The stresses. And victories. Crushes on boys. Some we know and some we don't. The perfect summer shoe and our preferences when it comes to the size of mechanical pencil lead. It felt like home. And it felt like I was known-- a feeling only continued again this morning waking up to find a living room full of some of the most awesome, talented, smart, and realistic women I know all holding their routine mug of coffee and waking up this day together.

I'm excited for the future of these people. Both individually and as a team of support and understanding like nothing I've ever seen in my life before. 

Eating Oreos in Bed

Today I had a second interview with Anthropologie. I didn't feel like it went well. I didn't really feel like it went badly either. The whole thing left me confused. I mean, when someone starts an interview off by asking you to tell them about yourself... Um, are you kidding me? What a question! Especially when you're asking this girl. Tell you about myself? Where do I begin? Where do I stop? 

I like pasta, but not waffles. 

My whole family lives in California, but I live in Georgia. 

One of my biggest goals right now in my entire life is for my hair to be shoulder length by summer.
I really like watching spinach wilt and I also know how to use Photoshop. 

I'm a fashion design student who isn't sure she wants to design fashions, but wants you to hire her for a fashion design internship, pretty pretty please. 

The whole interview was ten minutes. I spent two of those minutes talking about Catalina Island. Don't ask. 

When it was all over, my only response was to panic eat Oreos in bed and fall asleep with a few crumbs on my cheeks. No shame. And now, we wait for the powers that be to drop the hammer and e-mail me back. I'll keep ya posted. 

Reset

Homework was not a top priority this weekend. As a matter of fact, the idea of homework was quite offensive. Spending such wonderfully chilly days holed up in my room focusing on anything other than the prospect of future food adventures and napping just seemed so wrong. 

On Thursday, we went on a failed Dairy Queen exploration. Ok, what happened to all of the DQ's everywhere? You spend years driving past Dairy Queen's every day and never utilizing them and then the day comes when all you ever want in the world is a Oreo shake and you realize you've missed your chance. For shame. 

Let's skip Friday. I was sick. 

Ok. Saturday. The farmer's market, which is closed in the winter, re-opened this week. I just really love the Forsyth Farmer's Market. If you ever are in Savannah, I would say that it's a must go. It's not the largest, as a matter of fact, it barely has 15 vendors, but if you go on the early side of the morning when the sun is warming up the tree branches and park is still quiet, there is nothing more wonderful than picking out the most beautiful butter lettuce or sampling fresh baked French bread to kick off a Saturday. 

For dinner, I got to spend the evening with a large majority of all of my favorite people in the world at Lindsay and Kara's way too cool for school apartment. Lindsay's mom is visiting Savannah and spoiled all of us with a delicious home-cooked meal. We all spent hours sitting on the floor, sipping on wine and eating delicious cheese, talking about life and school and affirming each other. It was such an uplifting evening that made me realize what cool, smart, talented, beautiful and kind friends I have. And Mrs. Giambattista made me realize how much I miss my own mom and her support and genuine excitement for my and my friend's dreams and lives. It's simple. Mom's are just the best. This night was such a blessing. 

Spencer and Oli in the elevator leaving Lindsay's apartment. They are just so cool. I think they are just so cool. 

Wait. Guys. This is really cool. After spending three years at an art school, you acquire a lot of art supplies. Specifically paper. Pads on pads on pads on pads of paper that is way overpriced and annoyingly hard to store and easily forgettable. And even though as a fashion student you never use said paper, it's heartbreaking to throw such (overpriced) pads of paper away (in spite of it's annoyingly hard to store qualities). And so it sits in the corner of your room. And you look at it every day and try and think of a creative way to keep that gross pile of paper, but hide that gross pile of paper so you don't have to stare at such a gross pile of paper. But you'll never be able to think of anything. And right when you have reached your whits end and you are about to throw it all away, something funny sort of strikes you and you decide that you want to do some sort of art project involving using the gross paper. 

Like yesterday. 

(Hold on. I'll get to the point soon. I swear.)

Inspired by Saturday night's dinner party, I wanted to play around with my ink and nubs. And when I opened this pad of paper that I swear I have not even looked at since freshman year, I saw this little note in the corner that I apparently wrote to myself sometime over 2 years ago. Like a time capsule! (I live for stuff like this. I hide a lot of stuff just to find it later. Sort of like a crazy hoarder. No. A lot like a crazy hoarder.) Anyway, I was so excited/sort of weirded out when I saw this because of how applicable it was. Like always, life is a little up in the air right now and there are some decisions that will have to be made in the next few months that are going to be hard. And I've already been working on the idea of trusting in God in regards to my future and letting go of expectations that I have put on myself or I think that people have put on me, but this note was just a little affirmation of that in perfect timing. He works in mysterious ways, doesn't He?

Anyway, I really did try to do homework a bunch of times. I really did. But I ended up having fun instead. 

What did you do this weekend?

The Winter of the Air

"Sometimes you’re 23 and standing in the kitchen of your house making breakfast and brewing coffee and listening to music that for some reason is really getting to your heart. You’re just standing there thinking about going to work and picking up your dry cleaning. And also more exciting things like books you’re reading and trips you plan on taking and relationships that are springing into existence. Or fading from your memory, which is far less exciting. And suddenly you just don’t feel at home in your skin or in your house and you just want home but “Mom’s” probably wouldn’t feel like home anymore either. There used to be the comfort of a number in your phone and ears that listened everyday and arms that were never for anyone else. But just to calm you down when you started feeling trapped in a five-minute period where nostalgia is too much and thoughts of this person you are feel foreign. When you realize that you’ll never be this young again but this is the first time you’ve ever been this old. When you can’t remember how you got from sixteen to here and all the same feel like sixteen is just as much of a stranger to you now. The song is over. The coffee’s done. You’re going to breathe in and out. You’re going to be fine in about five minutes." 

Woah.

Yeah.

Whirlwinded

I know, I know. Bad blogger. I get it. 

Let's just forget one second about how mad you are me for taking so long to post again while you peruse some pictures from the last few weeks of the Winter quarter. And hopefully, by the end, we will have completely forgotten about this whole non-blogging-blogger behavior, huh? 

Look at these cats on the first day of school. Pretty sharp, huh? 

Spencer Malinski kitchen dance party. Beyond typical.

 Whoever said that girls with glasses get more passes... WAS RIIIIGHHHTT!!!! BOOYAH. 

Frances and my very first trip to a REAL LIFE BAR. Abe's, to be more specific. Salt of the earth, I tell ya. Frances wore a bow in her hair. Claire ordered potato vodka. I was almost forced to take a shot. (Almost). We got stared at.  The locals hated us. It was wonderful. 

This weekend was just simply oodles of fun. Hey, Bushka Lifers-- remember my senior collection from high school? Well, as much as I LOVE the shots of all my friends modeling the clothes in high school, they needed a little updating. The amazing Kara Reichart re-shot all of the looks in our backyard and Frances got her twerk on as my beautiful modela. (PS- remember that one time last quarter when Kara was amazing?)

You can see more pics of the shoot right.... here... on my website, which, by the way, is chock full of new goodies if you wanna click around and check it out. 

And then as if Friday's photoshoot wasn't enough fun, Saturday gave it a run for it's money. Dearest Lindsay Giambattista came over and filled our home with the sweet, sweet smells of homemade, family recipe style marinara sauce. And meatballs. Homemade ones. Oh, baby. This girl is Italian, alright. 

Oh. And then we made homemade spaghetti. And eggplant parmesan. And watched the Godfather. Viva Italia, bebe! 

Ok, wait a second. Is Savannah pretty or what? 

This little lug nut was giving me good luck hugs this morning before I was headed to class and then to a  very important... interview! ...for an internship! ...with Anthropologie! ...that went really well! Oh. Weird. Did I forget to mention that? Hmmm... must've slipped my mind! Or maybe I've been working on my portfolio 28 hours a day for the last week keeping me from doing anything but formatting pictures and InDesign pages. 

Anywhoooo, I don't know what's going to happen with that little Anthro situation, but I felt like the interview went really well and the rest is out of my control. But I promise I'll do better at keeping you all posted on such matters. 

And in closing, let's just all agree, once and for all, that Spencer Malinski has mad talent. And that these backpacks are the world's coolest. Ok. Good. Now that that's settled... 

What bunch of awesome days all in a row, ya know? This quarter: so far, so good. In a big way.

NYC

Thinking a lot about New York lately. About last summer. About this coming summer. About my relationship with this place. About the idea of place. And a state of contentment. 

I can't quite fully process the idea that such a known city with an ever changing population can hold such an intense and personally specific meaning to such a large number of people. 

So, that's what I've been thinking about. And the fact that I have to start applying for internships again. Yoiks. 

Winter Quarter

And so it begins. Another year another quarter. Another day another dollar. Let's kick things off this year with a little History of Fashion in the A.M. and some Computer Aided Design tonight.

Let's face this head on, shall we? I'm nervous about this quarter. I am hoping hoping hoping that that seven week break I'm coming fresh out of was enough to re-charge morale and the spirit of learning in me, but I can only be sure about that after a few weeks of testing the waters.

The work load of the next 10 weeks is currently a mystery. And I hate mystery. Am I going to be pulling all nighters and living on bowls of rice because the mere thought of standing up and cooking exhausts me? Or will I be basking in the beauty of an open schedule and throwing out blasphemous sentences like "I'm bored" or something as ludicrous as "I wish I had homework"? I don't know. This remains to be seen. And I hate that.

But Savannah is beautiful this morning. And I'm eating an hot egg with toast for breakfast. And my friends are here.

2012: Le Photos

I meant to blog these a few days ago. It didn't happen. Now we're sooo far into 2013 (I mean, it's basically over by now) and I'm going to take it back to 2012-- just for this post-- to highlight some of my favorite moments all communicated through Instagram. I'm not even going to attempt to explain all these. We really would be here until 2014. It's scary how much each of these pictures means to me.But now that I think about it, in order to promote some healthy reader participation, I would be willing to answer any questions you may have about one specific picture. I mean... like... only if you want to. It's, like, totally your call. I don't really care what you do. Just kidding. You know that's not true. I care a lot. Too much. Ok, please? Please comment? You know how much it means to me. Don't make me beg. Let's chat. Go. Look. Ask. Enjoy. (PS- I am so embarrassed about the formatting issues. Guys. I can't figure out what is going wrong here. Something is weird. Whatever. I don't want to talk about.) 

two things:

1. I need to journal more. I have a lot of thoughts, ya know? 

2. I am officially in Savannah typing these very words on my computer at my desk in my room with my music playing. My thick handful of yellow mechanical pencils are relaxed in the blue can just like I left them. My room smells kind of musty and woody like an old house that holds a lot of memories. There's a dried ring of water on my desk marking the exact spot where my hand naturally places a sweaty glass of ice water. 

I can't wait to see what happens next.  

2013

Let's talk resolutions. You got any? Lose weight? Save your pennies? Get over a fear? Well, I've got some. I doubt you're very surprised. I'm kind of a fan of making goals. Now that I think about it... are goals the same as resolutions? I feel like there is a difference. I guess my resolutions are more goal-ish than resolution-y. 

On the menu for 2013: 

• Learn a language or two. I think I might start with German. 
• Get an internship that I'm proud of. 
• Become involved in a college church group.
• Write more letters. I'm talking real, honest to goodness, snail mail, baby. 
• Do more yoga. Lululemon donations welcome. 
• Reduce. Gluten. Intake.
• Reduce. Sarcasm. Output. 
• Go on a date. A real one. Any secret admirers, it's time for you to come out of hiding, got it? 
• Go to bed earlier. Wake up earlier.
• Bake more bread. Disregard previous gluten free statement. I'm over it. 
• Take more risks.
• Take more walks.
• Perfect my website.
• Be kinder. 

Ok. I think that's it. Let's see what I can pull off this year, yeah? What are you working on?

My Favorite Things about 2012

In no particular order.

Winter in Savannah
My first Saturday morning alone in New York City
Cooking for my roommates
Roast Chicken
Paella
Blueberry Muffins
Walking home alone in the rain that one afternoon this summer
Easter with my friends
Rollerskates in our house (watching and not participating)
Spring Break
Downton Abbey
When my hair was red (before things went awry)
The time I ate sweet potatoes and watched Amelie with my friends
The construction workers at NYU
The sample sale
Saturday mornings at the Savannah Farmer's Market
Staycation
Various young adult fan fiction book series
Nonfiction Writing Class
Urban Ethnography
Dinner at The River Club
Jewish Food Festival
Trips 1 and 2 to Atlanta
Foxy Loxy Decaf Mocha
Red Dress photoshoot
Watching Kaitlin graduate on my computer
The dog on the red leash
When Kaitlin and my mom came to New York
When the Page's came to New York
When Lindsay came to New York
When Aunt Beth came to New York
When Kaitlin and my mom and my dad came to Savannah
Virginia
Moving
My birthday

Business Time

Enough of this Christmas Break squirreling around business. I've slept in and stayed up late enough times now that I feel rested and ready to head back into the thick of real life. I've talked things out. And I've lost some sleep. I've given big, real life, 10 second hugs to people that I've really missed and things are still definitely a little cloudy for me, but I put on actual clothes today, some lip gloss and a real bra. This is for real. 

I'm taking my first plunge back into productiveness today by starting to think about what this summer is going to look like. I know. This summer. It's rearing it's ugly, hot temperatured head. Already. And again. Ugh. 

The name of the game: Internship. 

Me and my computer are sitting at Alta, somewhere that even though I can't give a big, real life, 10 second hug to, is a place that I have really missed. I've got my crazy, crazy three page, single spaced list of companies that are on my radar. I've got my decaf vanilla latte and the search has begun. I kind of want to run away. Or justify the idea of taking this summer off and just "enjoying life" (which is the nice way of saying "being a total leach and wasting a bunch of time out of fear"), but one by one, I'll send out my application to companies beggginnnggg for them to love me!! Pretty, pretty please! I know you'll love me! Daunting. 

Here we go. 

PS- halfway through writing this, a coffee date started at the table behind me. She really likes him. He sort of seems creepy. And he has a lisp. Which, funny enough, isn't what makes him creepy. 

Tired

I am going through something that I think I want to share.

Have you ever gone through a time in your life that just seemed harder? And not for a specific reason and nothing that is tangible or terribly hard is going on, but you feel like you're in the weeds? Well, over the last handful of months, I have been feeling awfully dry. Creatively bored, uninspired by what's going on around me, both in school and personally, and I've been finding it quite hard to be motivated by life. 

I think it started this summer. The day in and day out of depending completely on myself (and God) to see things in a positive light through all of the challenges was very difficult-- more than I think I really realize or give credit to even now. The experience of finally being thrown into the industry that I've wanted to be apart of  for the better part of my entire life was overwhelming and it, of course, was totally impossible for it to live up to the expectations that I had custom crafted for so, so many years. The good parts seemed great, but the bad parts surprised me and left me questioning everything (again) about my future and what I want it to look like. When it was all over and I was starting up this school year, I  was already in a place that felt so tired and drained.

It was hard for me to get myself to class, hard for me to pay attention, hard for me to remember what were the things that I loved about fashion-- and writing, for that matter. Finding inspiration and a reason to blog, something that in the past has been such a place of comfort and joy, has been really difficult. Even now that this quarter is over, it is still hard for me to really hit the reset button and a find a fresh start.

I'm struggling with who I am and what I want out of my life-- right now and for the future. But then I am reminded that I don't have any control over that... and so I struggle with that too. This is the sort of questioning that leads to questioning which leads to questioning which brings us back to questioning,  finally resting at the annoying answer of the fact that there simply is no answer. Frustrating.

This sort of thing ends up playing with my mood and my self esteem and how I interact with the people in my life. Even my sleeping has been affected (that fact that I, Julia Patton, am finding it hard to sleep... I think that pretty much sums it all up right there.) I just don't really feel like myself. Since coming home, my sweet mother, in a soft and caring voice, has mentioned a couple of times that I seem sad. And she is right, but when she asks me what is wrong, I don't know what to say. It's just life. And it's just a season. I'm not sure what the future holds, but I know that I am in His hands through it all.

I've been going back and forth with whether or not to blog about these trials because I didn't know what good it would do and, honestly, it's taken me about four days to write this all down, but it  felt like  something that I needed to. Through all of this, it's been difficult to take myself and whatever is going on seriously because I am so extremely blessed in my life and for some people in the world, my worst day would be their very best, but I also don't want to just gloss over an emotion that is real to me. Hopefully that makes sense. 

Towhead

Do you ever have that moment when you're at a Bakery with your friends and after a conversation lasting no more than 25 seconds about how bored you are with your hair, you decide that you should head to CVS and dye your entire head bleach blonde in your kitchen? And then when it doesn't really pan out as well as you'd originally hoped, you have to spend about 8 hours of your day originally allotted for intense homeworking on fixing said bleach blonde orange hair into something a little less offensive? 

No? 

Just me? 

Ok. Cool.  

It's rough. It's orange.  It's a little pink too. But I'm here. Standing before you. Hatless and crying laughing with you. 

What'd you do this weekend? 

Plans.

Yesterday morning at 9:00, I met with the career advisor for the Fashion Department. 

For some reason, when I was getting dressed to head over to Eckburg, I was really, really nervous. I think that maybe it was because I knew that this was the kick that would start the ball rolling towards next summer. And that   scares me. Because I just moved on from this summer. This summer of future job search anxiety and take-out dinners alone and  watching the West Wing to avoid the scorching heat of Manhattan summers and midnight walks  through the East Village and my first  introduction to the professional, semi-capable version of myself. ...And more take-out. It was a three month scavenger hunt through the City picking up new and exciting unrecognizable parts of myself along the way.  This summer was hard. And I loved it. Or I don't know if I  loved it. I guess that's sort of my point-- I'm finally really removed from this summer and here it is again. Next summer. Popping in to say hello. And I don't quite feel like I'm ready for it.

But I went to the meeting. And wore a white blouse and spoke in a like totally like professional way. And we talked about resumes. And cover letters. And past work experience. And future goals. And e-mail etiquette. And my counselor was so helpful and wore cool glasses and she listened graciously when I told her about how overwhelming school can be and she was nice, but the entire time I sat there and wondered what I was doing all of this for? For weeks now, the little creepers of freshman year and sophomore year and this summer have been making me wonder if this-- fashion-- is really what I want to do with my life. And maybe even bigger and scarier of a question: if it's not this that you want to do, then what?

When I think about all of the possibilities of the future, one of the most frustrating things is the fact that there are so  many possibilities. I know that in 15 years, I'll look back and wonder what in the world I was so afraid of when I am so lucky to say that there is virtually no way that I can fail, but right now the future scares me. And taunts me. And I see flashes of my future-- or rather, what I would like it to be, but I have no way of knowing how to get there.

It's been a while since I've gotten all ranty and intense on here, so I thought it was high time for me to over-share and make people feel sorry for me. So, after all of this, there are no definitive answers. And  I don't think there will be for a while (which just makes me want to eat ice cream and watch Grey's).  I've decided that for now, I'll focus the next few hours on the only thing that I truly have control over: what font I want my resume header to be.